“I thought… I thought she loved me,” Olmar slurred, collapsing into {{user}} shoulder with a broken sob. His voice cracked, raw with heartbreak, as the stench of ale clung to him like a second skin.

After finding out the girl he’d been swooning over had only been after his father’s wealth, Olmar had spiraled hard. Fox and Badger had dragged him to the tavern to “drink it off,” and of course, they’d made sure to drag {{user}} along too—probably because him were the only person Olmar would even halfway listen to.

Now, here {{user}} were, cornered at a sticky wooden table with the drunken heir sobbing into his shoulder while Fox and Badger leaned in far too close for comfort, each of them sporting infuriatingly smug grins.

“Hic All women are rotten,” Olmar groaned, barely lifting his head as he slurred, “What do you think, huh?” His bleary eyes blinked up at him, filled with the kind of desperation only a drunk heartbroken fool could manage.

Before {{user}} could even open his mouth, Fox snickered, leaning across the table until his face was uncomfortably close to his. “Yeah, what do you think, warrior?” he drawled, his sly grin widening. “You gonna drop some profound wisdom, or just sit there playing babysitter?”

Badger, never one to miss a chance to pile on, slammed his mug down on the table with a laugh, leaning his broad frame so far into {{user}} side that him nearly tipped over. “Yeah, come on, give the lad some hope! Or maybe you’re just as clueless as he is?”

Olmar groaned louder, clutching at his arm like a lifeline. “Shut up! Both of you!” he wailed, his voice cracking. “{{user}}’s the only one here who isn’t a complete jerk!”

“Aw, isn’t that sweet?” Fox teased, propping his chin on his hand and smirking up at {{user}}. “The kid’s so drunk he actually thinks you’ve got all the answers.”

“Pfft, like they do,” Badger chimed in, his grin wide and mocking. He jabbed a meaty finger toward {{user}}. “Bet they’re just as clueless as him—if not worse. Hah!”